


Scoring Twice

by chants_de_lune



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Football | Soccer, Kissing in the Rain, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rival Sex, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Smut, Wet Clothing Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2018-12-30 18:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chants_de_lune/pseuds/chants_de_lune
Summary: Clarke Griffin made a point of not letting any rival throw off her focus.And she would make no exceptions.Not even for Bellamy Blake's ass in athletic shorts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by Bob Morley's wonderful performance and devastatingly handsome physique at the Whitecaps charity game.

 

 

 

**_August 28th_ **

_ "I reserved this field first, Bellamy!"  yelled Clarke, walking up to him, close enough for their cleats to touch.  Bellamy smirked.   _

 

_ "And I called in a favor with Kane.  You can go to the one over there."  He pointed to a smaller field a hundred yards away, filled with bumps and far too rocky for adequate practice.                       _

_ "You're being an asshole!" Clarke glared at him, but Bellamy's smile only grew.  He was barely a head taller than her, but the wide breadth of his shoulders made him seem bigger.   _

_ "And you can't make do?  Typical princess."  _

_ The name made Clarke's blood boil, and she restrained herself from shoving him.   _

_ "Fuck you, Bellamy."  _

_ Bellamy raised his brows, eyes glinting.   _

_ "I bet you think about that all the time."   _

_ Clarke kicked a patch of loose grass at him.  "You wish,” she spat, walking away with the men’s team jeers ringing in her ears.   _

 

_ “I swear, sometimes he does this just to mess with you,” said Harper, bumping shoulders with her.  Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose, watching as Bellamy loped easily across the field.   _

 

_ “Rough terrain makes us better players, it’s his loss,” she said, turning her back and squaring her shoulders.  _

 

_ Clarke Griffin made a point of not letting any rival throw off her focus.   _

_ And she would make no exceptions.  _

_ Not even for Bellamy Blake’s ass in athletic shorts.   _

 

* * *

 

**_September 18th_ **

 

“Alright, once you’re packed, you can leave!” shouted Clarke, picked up trash from the sideline. She heard Bellamy bellow something similar further down the field.  

“You did good today Fox, go home and rest that ankle.”    

 

Clarke pushed her headband back, waving a quick goodbye to Raven, their team manager since her injury last season.  She knelt down to put the balls back in the mesh drawstring bag.  

 

Before long, everyone was hiking back to campus, save one last pair of cleats, standing in front of her.  Clarke looked up and was surprised to find Bellamy.  

 

“You did good in the scrimmage today,” he said sincerely.  Clarke shrugged.  

 

“Thanks, you guys still won, though.”  Bellamy smiled.

 

“By one goal,” he took a step forward, “and it took me the entire game to figure out how to get past you.”  Clarke smiled, noticing that Bellamy still had a ball tucked under his arm.  “You’re one of the best damn defense players on the East Coast.”  

Clarke scoffed, trying to hide the slight blush on her cheeks. “Oh, hardly. You’re the one that the scouts are watching.” 

 

Bellamy looked taken aback. “You think so?” 

 

“Yes!” said Clarke, smiling and shaking her head. “I’ve seen you play and lost count of how often you land corner shots.”  

 

Bellamy paused for a moment, then tossed his ball to her.  

 

“Play some 1v1 with me.” 

 

Clarke laughed, glancing up at the cloudy sky.  “It’s going to start pouring any second!” 

 

Bellamy shrugged. “I could use a rinse.” 

 

Clarke chuckled. “Oh yeah, one of the captain’s showers is broken, and it isn’t mine.” 

 

Bellamy rolled his eyes.  “Some of us don’t mind bathing with the masses, Princess.”

 

“Oh, spoken like a true Roman,” said Clarke, tossing the ball onto the ground. “Then again, some of us like pleasing ourselves privately after a game.”   She gave him an impulsive wink and started chasing the ball.  She had given it one hard kick away from the goal when Bellamy loomed in front of her, pushing her back.  

 

In the scrimmage, Clarke focused on the big picture, sensing where her teammates were open.  Now, her attention was completely on Bellamy.  She hated how much she enjoyed it.  

 

Bellamy prodded her to be smarter with her moves, using showy tricks to make her laugh.  They fought for control across the center line as rain began falling.  

“Am I the reason you’re going so slow?” asked Clarke, elbowing Bellamy behind her.  He took the ball and jogged a few feet away.  

 

“I’m a little tired,” he admitted. “And I don’t want to carry you back if you faint.” 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “How gallant,” she said, snatching the ball back.  

 

The rain was now falling in sheets.  Clarke was used to playing in bad weather, but not with Bellamy’s body pressed constantly against hers.  She forced herself to keep her eyes on the ball and not let them track the muscles gleaming through his slick, skin-tight jersey.  Clarke felt her control slipping, though Bellamy seemed to stumble whenever she pushed him away with her hands or hips.  

 

They were nearing the goal when Clarke’s foot slid from beneath her on a muddy patch.  She hit the ground hard, impact expelling all air from her lungs.  She was wheezing when she felt Bellamy’s strong hands pull her up against the goalpost.  

 

“Are you alright? Clarke, are you okay?” he asked, voice hitched with concern.  His eyes were wide as he ran a hand over the back of her head and then cupped her cheeks.  

 

“I’m fine,” she gasped, breathing slowly returning to normal.  “I’m fine, Bellamy.”  

  
  


Bellamy clenched his jaw. “It looked like your head had hit the goalpost,” he said gravelly, eyes raw with emotion. “It would’ve sucked to see you get concussed because of me.”  

 

Clarke opened her mouth to admonish him for taking blame, but she stopped.  The air grew charged, though no thunder was rumbling from the clouds.  Rain was dripping off Bellamy’s curls and forming beads on his cheeks.  Clarke felt her chest heaving as her eyes met Bellamy’s darkened ones.  

 

She saw Bellamy’s tongue glide over his parted, plush lips, and she made a decision quicker than a flash of lightning.  

 

She leaned in and gently brushed her lips against his.  Clarke felt him freeze, and she got overwhelmed with anxiety.  She tried to pull away, but she was crowded between Bellamy and the goalpost, and Bellamy -- was kissing her back, still cupping her cheeks as he pressed his lips to hers again and again.  

 

Clarke fisted the front of his jersey and started to lay biting kisses down his throat, his scruff rubbing against her cheek.  Bellamy groaned, moving his hands to pull her into his lap. His teeth found a spot under her ear that made her keen.  

 

The cool rain now seemed like an icy drench compared to the heat coming off Bellamy’s body. Unable to stay upright, Bellamy fell into the grass with Clarke beneath him.  Whenever Clarke’s eyes fluttered open, she saw his hair falling across his knitted brow, the unmuddied parts of his white uniform sharply contrasting his dark freckled skin. 

 

Water was soaking through her shorts, and she was pretty sure that there was dirt in her hair, but oh, she did not  _ care  _ \-- not when Bellamy was holding her in his arms, grinding and pressing her into the grass.  She did not care that her underwear might be wet on both sides when he was growling as he clenched her hips tightly.  She wished that the hardness she felt against her core was not a plastic cup, but instead Bellamy Blake’s co- 

 

“I want you,” Bellamy rasped against the neckline of her shirt.  “My God, Griffin, you’ve no idea what you do to me.”  

 

He drew back and Clarke saw his swollen, kiss-heavy lips; his pretty eyes were hidden behind blown-out pupils.  

“You can take me, Blake,” said Clarke, shuddering as something primal crossed Bellamy’s face. “But first, let me take you somewhere we can wash off this shit.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get steamy :)

There was not much talking on the path off the fields.  They jogged side by side, refusing to race simply due to the bags slung on their shoulders.  Mud was coating their socks and shorts; Clarke felt grime on her neck that stretched into her scalp.

 

Even more though, she remembered the feeling of Bellamy's hands gripping her tight, the smell of him mixed with petrichor, and the rainwater she tasted on his lips.  She had no name for what this was, only weeks ago they had been at each others’ throats.  Clearly, the adrenaline coursing through her veins was leaving little room for self doubt.

 

Within ten minutes they had reached the entrance to thankfully empty locker rooms.  They dumped the balls by the coach's office, then Clarke took Bellamy by the hand.

 

In between the men's and women's locker rooms were two separate showers, built by accident. Instead of tearing them out, the administration transformed the spaces into two private chambers for team captains.  Clarke had thought it odd when Diyoza first handed her the key, but now she was completely grateful.

 

“Always the lucky one,”  Bellamy teased, kissing her neck as she fumbled through unlocking the door.  "I haven't had a private shower here in ages."  

 

"Oh today is your lucky day then," she teased back.  They ducked inside before anyone entered the locker room.  All of their fervor dissipated for a moment as they looked at each other’s mussed and muddied state.   

 

“If you wanted to get down in the dirt with me, congratulations,” said Clarke with a small laugh.  Bellamy smiled, taking a step closer.

 

“We’ll save detergent if we jump in the shower with our clothes on,” he said, and then added in a softer tone, “I don’t want you to feel compelled to do something if we start taking clothes off.”   Clarke quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Oh, the clothes don’t have to stay on once they’re clean.”      

 

Bellamy smirked, backing Clarke into the closest wall and kissing her, not as roughly as before, but not modestly either.   Clarke smiled, wrapping her hands around his neck as she let her tongue sweep across his bottom lip.

 

“As much as I could do that all day,” she murmured, pushing him away gently. “I need to feel clean.”  Bellamy nodded, sitting down on the bench to unlace his cleats.

 

“Guess we should’ve done that earlier,” Clarke mumbled as she sat down next to him, pointing to the smudged track of cleat prints on the tile.  Bellamy chuckled.

 

“Better clean it up, or else there will be rumors about who you dragged into the captain’s shower.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Clarke smiled as she took off her shoes. “And I don’t know why you have the kind with straps, this isn’t little league,” she added, sliding her shin guards out of her socks with ease.  Bellamy scoffed

 

“Like those flimsy things offer any protection,” he said, unstrapping his guards and purposely pulling his socks on slowly.  “Don’t you want a little padding around your ankles?” Clarke lifted her eyebrows.

 

“I’m not the fittest on the team, I need all the agility I can get.”   

 

“Seems fair,” Bellamy shrugged.

 

When he didn’t respond further, Clarke reached for her bag and pawed through it for her shampoo.  Bellamy stood up and walked over to the shower, opening the curtain. Clarke dug Bellamy’s shampoo out of his bag and looked over at him.   

 

“Do you like it hot?” he asked, turning the faucet.

 

“I invited you here, didn’t I?” she replied, smirking when he looked over his shoulder.  “Hot’s fine.”

 

She handed him his shampoo as both of them pushed into the stall.

 

“I’m sorry. I could’ve sworn this was a little bigger,” said Clarke, maneuvering herself around Bellamy to let the water rinse her hair.  He chuckled, shaking his head.

 

“I usually don’t shower with my back against the wall, but I can handle this.”

 

The mud streamed off them fairly easily, forming greyish brown puddles at the drain below their feet as they washed their hair.  Bellamy’s uniform gradually turned whiter, contrasting his dark summer tan even more sharply.  Clarke lathered up her hair, the scent of her shampoo mixing surprisingly well with his.  

He braced a hand on the wall to take off his socks and then wrung them out until the water ran clear.  

 

“Oh, good idea,” said Clarke, turning to take off hers as Bellamy tossed his onto a hook outside the curtain. Her hands fumbled slightly, but soon she had them relatively clean.

 

 “Is there still a lot of dirt on my back?” she asked.  She felt his gaze drop onto her, and suddenly the air felt charged again.  Bellamy reached out and put his hands on her hips.

 

“View looks good from here,” he murmured, lips grazing her ear.    Clarke bit her lip, willing herself not to lean back against him.

 

“What about you?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.  “You clean?”

 

Bellamy’s tongue flitted between his lips briefly, eyes dark.  

 

“Yeah, got tested at the beginning of season.”     
  


Clarke took a sharp breath.  “Not what I meant, but good to know.”  

 

 Bellamy chuckled. “You sure that wasn’t what you meant?” his lips hovered over her ear. Clarke cocked her head.

 

“Beginning of the season, you said. Slept with anyone since?” she asked.  Bellamy shook his head.

 

“No, been focused on winning,” his hands slid under her jersey.  “And maybe I’ve been distracted.” Clarke bit back a moan as his hands crested over her chest.  

 

"I knew you had great tits, but-" his thumbs rubbed her nipples, traitorously poking through her sports bra "-God damn."  Clarke smirked, reaching behind to grasp him through his shorts.

 

"Ah," she smirked, letting her hand glide down his aroused cock. "The rumors are true."

 

Bellamy chuckled. "Rumors? Do I get objectified in the girl's locker room?"

 

Clarke huffed. "I try to curb it,” she tugged her hand a little faster and heard his resulting gasp.  “Raven talks about her sex life when she’s drunk,” she clarified.

 

"I'm flattered," he said bluntly, teeth grazing her neck with his kisses.

 

A sudden thought came into Clarke’s mind.

“Do I get objectified in the guy’s locker room?” she asked.  Bellamy made a tense noise against the hollow of her throat.

 

“You don’t want to know. I’ve had to bark at a couple of ‘em for shit I wouldn’t dare repeat.”  

Clarke raised her eyebrows, surprised that of all people, Bellamy Blake would defend her.

 

"Watch out Bellamy, it sounds like you care about me."

 

“Oh would I do this if I didn’t care about you?” asked Bellamy, sliding one of his hands down and into her shorts.  He found her clit easily, and teased it between his fingers. She arched her back, letting out a restrained moan.

 

“Ok, if we’re going to do this...” Clarke said through a stuttered breath.  “We need rules.”

 

Bellamy chuckled. “And who makes those rules, Princess? You?” he asked, his left hand on her chest and the fingers of his right dangerously rubbing down her slit.

 

Clarke shook her head. “We’ll make them together.” she pushed Bellamy’s hand out of her shorts and turned to face him.  She kissed with teeth on his neck and his back against the wall. “Number one, only after games.”

 

And practices if we’re both there?  Bellamy murmured as he gripped her hip, one hand already sliding back to her clit.

 

“Yeah,” whispered Clarke, her left hand sneaking into his shorts.  His breath hitched with a moan.

 

“Number two, no sex in the dorm,” he said against her throat.

 

“Oh, don’t want me on a bed, Bellamy?”  she grinned, her other hand fisted in his hair.

 

Bellamy let out another rough groan. “Too easy for people to spot us.”

 

“Rule 3 --” he sank his fingers into her cunt, making her gasp, “no telling anyone on the team. Anyone in general.”

 

“Naturally,”  Clarke said shakily, biting her lip.  Bellamy watched her reaction with a devious grin.  

 

“Bite my lip instead, Princess,” he whispered in her ear.

 

Clarke pressed her mouth to his in a harsh kiss, letting his tongue pass her lips as his fingers kept crooking inside her.  She kept her hand at pace with his and felt his hips start to stutter. His thumb swept another circle over her clit, and she broke off the kiss, gasping. The pressure started building in her core and Clarke muffled her moaning against Bellamy’s chest, her teeth catching on the fabric of his jersey.

 

“Got any more rules, Clarke?” he asked, biting at the midpoint of her neck and her shoulder.  

 

“No - no marks,” she stuttered out, though the feeling and thought of Bellamy’s love bites made her dizzy.  He made a disappointed noise, softening the bitten patch with his tongue.

 

“Anywhere?” he whined.

 

“Nowhere,” Clarke gritted out.  “I change on the bus with the girls.”

 

Bellamy kissed back up her neck and tugged at her earlobe.  “I could leave one right here-” he pressed his free hand against her cleavage, “or here,” his fingers slide underneath the curves of her tits.   Clarke made a low groan and shook her head.

 

“No, you want to keep it secret, no marks.”

 

“Guess I’ll have to work you out of more of your clothes soon,” he said huskily against her cheek, pressing another kiss to her mouth. “Leave one where your panties will hide it.”

 

Clarke’s cheeks flamed as Bellamy kept his fingers at work, her jersey rucked up underneath her bra.  She tugged his uniform with her free hand and ran her nails across his navel, earning a hiss. His fingers quickened, and suddenly her knees were buckling underneath her.  She felt the rush hit her and shut her eyes, driving her hand on Bellamy as fast as she could.

 

“That’s it,” he groaned appreciatively, bracing her shuddering body with his arm.  His thumb circled her clit until she pushed him away, dizzy and oversensitive. His smile grew smug as she took a few moments to regain herself.  

 

“Thank you, Captain,” she said, smirking as she shut off the water.  She tugged gently at the hem of his shorts, raising her eyebrow.  Bellamy shook his head, grabbing her hips to press one last sharp kiss on her neck.  

 

“I came when you did. So thank you, Captain.”  

 

“Oh?” Clarke smiled, pulling down her sopping jersey as they stepped out. “You’ll have to wash those shorts a second time.”  

 

“I’d rather it get on my clothes than the shower.”

 

She laughed softly. “Diyoza may be a tough coach, but she isn’t going to run a blacklight over her captain’s shower.”

 

“If she did, I have a feeling I’m first on her suspect shitlist.”  

 

He grabbed a towel for her and started wringing his hair.  It became fluffier within seconds. Cute, even. She averted her eyes.

 

“So… shower handjobs again next week?” she asked, suppressing a blush.  Bellamy smirked as he gathered his stuff.

 

“I think we can do a little bit better than that.”

 

“What do you have in mind?”  Clarke sat next to him on the bench, her towel wrapped around her shoulders. She teased her lip with her teeth, daring him to say it.  

 

“If I win my next game, would you blow me?” he asked, his eyes bearing deep into hers.

 

Clarke shrugged.  “Maybe. Depends on what I would get if I win my next game.”

 

Bellamy grinned.  “I’d eat you out.”  He leaned in closer to her ear.  “Could really make your legs shake.”

 

Clarke nodded, her thighs already clenching at the thought.  “You’ve got a deal.”

 

The overspill from the shower had washed away their muddy cleat-prints.  She packed her things and opened the door halfway. The hallway was vacant, as predicted.

 

“Coast is clear,” she told him. Bellamy walked up behind her and put his hands on her hips one last time.  He let out an appreciative purr, kissing her ear.

 

“I can’t wait for more of this, Clarke,” he murmured, then he stepped out of the bathroom.  

 

Clarke waited for five minutes before leaving, as per all tryst etiquette, absolutely nothing to do with how she held her hand over her rapidly pattering heart.  

 

“Stay sharp,” she whispered to herself.  “Because feelings could screw this whole thing up.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the result of a cliffhanger!   
> The second time these two have showered together in one of my fics :)   
> I'll probably change the rating to E with the next update. 
> 
> I have a few ideas, but in this verse? I could take any inspiration. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a follow-up! I would've posted this in one part except for the fact that it is 2:30am over here. 
> 
> Please send comments!! They make my day and make updates come sooner!!


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